Confessions of Aurora Sinistra
by Dromiceiomimus
Summary: The life of Professor Sinistra:  Her time as a student, teacher, and the first and second wizarding wars.  Mild language, rating may change.
1. Introductions

I am Aurora Sinistra, former Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital of Magical Maladies and Injuries, former member of the Order of the Phoenix, and former professor of astronomy at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

I was born to Vesper and Persephone Sinistra on the morning of 23rd of March 1960 in Sinistra Manor. I was the youngest of their two children, the oldest, Aelius Sinistra, was six years my senior. My father, Vesper, was the only son of Cepheus Sinistra, and so the heir of the Sinistra estate. As I remember him, he was quite tall, with a square jaw, dark green eyes, and black hair, although most of it was grey by the time he was forty. He was always very well dressed and no matter what the occasion, he wore a serious expression. He was a brilliant alchemist.

My mother Persephone was from the Selwyn family. She had a sister, Circe, who married Abraxas Malfoy. My mother was small, slender, with a thin face, blond hair, and blue eyes. She was ill all the time that I knew her, and always nervous or depressed. She died when I was seven.

Aelius and I both inherited our mother's looks, except Aelius had the fortune of growing to be quite tall, and we both had the black hair of Vesper Sinistra. Aelius grew to be a handsome wizard. He was always well groomed with short and well kempt hair. As our father, he always dressed well, though he only ever wore black. As for myself, I am about 5'4", my hair has usually been kept long with bangs that, as my Aunt Circe said, "frame my face," and the only accessory I ever wear is a pair of rectangular-framed eyeglasses.

My father invested little of his time in his children, although he was never cruel and rarely unkind, he did of an air of cold indifference around us. He did, however, made sure his children learned to display the "proper dignity and pride befitting of a Sinistra." He did seem pleased that both of his children made it to Slytherin. And though he never said anything, I am sure Aelius and I would have known if he were not proud of us.


	2. The Visitor

Everything ended with a boy. On a cold night in October, the Dark Lord was defeated by a child, or so they thought. That night when the Dark Lord killed the Potters, but failed to kill their son, it was perhaps one of the most celebrated events in wizarding history. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, instantly became a living icon of innocence prevailing over evil. I, however, have no memory of that day.

On the night of 31st of October 1981, I was at St. Mungo's, this time not for work, but as a patient. I had been a patient there for a little less than a week, and shortly into November I finally woke up. My memories of that first day I woke up are a little hazy. I do recall constant and excited chatter, though I was still to weak to understand it. It was not until the day before I was released that I received a visitor. Albus Dumbledore, the last person I wanted to see. He was standing there in the doorway that rainy afternoon, I chose to look away, but his reflection in the window still seemed to see straight to my soul, his blue eyes twinkling, and his half-moon spectacles slightly awry.

Dumbledore's reflection pulled a chair over to my bed, which made a high-pitched scratching sound on the linoleum, and he sat down. I took this as my cue to turn and face the real Dumbledore.

"I am glad to see you're getting your strength back. You had us all very worried for a little while." I gave him a slight smile, and nodded for him to continue. "Sirius managed to stop you, you owe him your life." _Damn. _I thought. Sirius Black was the last person to whom I wished to owe anything. Dumbledore must have guessed as much, since he gave me a stern look before he leaned back and smiled.

"He is in Azkaban though? It's true they sent him without a trail?"

"I am afraid so, they believed the evidence to be overwhelming."

"Circumstantial." I turned back to the window and watched the rain beat against Dumbledore's reflection. As much as I disliked him, I knew Sirius Black to be fiercely loyal to his friends. He was no traitor. "He was a fool."

"We can all be fools when those we love are taken from us."

"Have you come to give me a lecture?"

"No," He leaned forward and smiled, "No, Aurora, I have a job for you." I turned to face him again, "What makes you think I want another job from you?" I confess, that my tone came across as a little more bitter than I had intended. "Severus says you will be leaving your post here." Damn him. Why did Snape know everything? "Why does Snape say that?" I asked.

"I believe Healer Grey told him when he last wrote about your condition." I should have figured that, really. Bloody gossip. "However, I must confess that I am curious as to _why _you are leaving you post at St. Mungo's."

"A Healer should not have so much blood on her hands." And that was the truth, put very simply. Thankfully, Dumbledore did not press the subject any further. "Well as I said, I do have a job for you." I gave him my full attention, as his tone was suddenly professional. "Hogwarts as recently had some positions open up. It seems some of our professors has decided that now is a good time to retire. I currently have available two professorships that would suit you well: Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course, and Astronomy. As I recall you always received very high marks under Professor Pyxis, and Professor Slughorn say he always believed you would do well in Astronomy. " I considered the offer for a moment, and weighed my options. There was, on the one hand, the idea of unemployment. My family's fortune could support me easily enough, but I could not bear to be idle. On the other hand, I would be given a comfortable place to live for most of the year and something with which to occupy my time, however I would have to work for Dumbledore, who was currently one of my least favorite people. "Defense Against the Dark Arts…" I thought aloud, "…that position is cursed… Astronomy. I'll take that one."


	3. Harry Potter Comes to Hogwarts

For nine years, nothing remarkable happened. Most days were the same; I would grade charts, work on lesson plans, bicker with colleges. All in all, it was not a bad routine, though life was only as peaceful as the students allowed. The first years are always confused, second and third years think they know everything, fourth and fifth years are live and breathe drama. It isn't until the sixth and seventh years when you really get a descent class, that's when you get the students who are actually interested in the subject. The best part is that the classes are small! Just a couple students for each year, hardly anyone wants to take N.E.W.T. level Astronomy.

Really, the only bad thing about the job was that damn tower. For sixteen years of my life I honestly though I was going to die climbing those damn stairs to the top every night. Back when I was a student those stairs weren't even a challenge. I remember being able to run all the way to my lessons and barely be out of breath. But that injury I received in the First Wizarding War had claimed much of my former stamina. The damage it did to my heart meant that by the time I reached the top it felt like I had just run half a mile, unless I didn't to take my potion in which case it felt more like two.

But the stairs weren't the worst part about that tower. It was also frequented by the Bloody Baron, Hogwarts' least likable ghost- groaning and clanking around as if he were the only soul in the world. I told him he should go haunt the dungeons where Slytherins were supposed to be, but he would only clank his chains at me and groan some more.

I swear that tower is cursed.

It had been ten years since Dumbledore had offered me work at Hogwarts, and after all that time, something finally happened that is worth mentioning. Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts. Not only was the Boy-Who-Lived returning to the Wizarding World, but Hogwarts was also to play host the Philosopher's Stone. Needless to say, it did cause quite a stir about the castle. Especially as it seemed the boy was not receiving any of his letters. I remember Snape saying that our best efforts had seemed to fail, and that Potter should probably just stay where he was. But Minerva was determined to get him to school so she sent Hagrid to deliver the letter himself.

Soon enough, September 1st was there and the Great Hall was filled with students waiting for the feast to begin. The first years would be arriving any minute to be sorted. The Great Hall was filled with chatter, even as the first years entered. Arriving slightly later than my fellow professors, I was stuck sitting at the end of the staff table, and the person sitting to my left was currently engaged in a conversation with Professor Quirrell. Merlin knows how long that would last. If there was anything I learned after all my time at Hogwarts (both as a student and a professor) is that the only exciting sorting is your own. The sorting ceremony is even more tedious if you are not the head of a house, as it matters even less where the students end up. With nothing better to do, I sat slouched in my chair and studied the stars that seemed to hang from the ceiling of the Great Hall.

"Potter, Harry!" is what finally got my attention. I pushed up my glasses and leaned forward slightly as I scanned the room for the young wizard. . I quickly identified him as the boy with the dark, untidy hair coming forward to be sorted. He looked very much like his father. As the Sorting Hat was placed on his head I thought, _definitely Gryffindor_. And I was right, as not a minute later the Sorting Hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" The Gryffindor table erupted with cheers, but just like every other first year, Potter walked nervously to his house table.


End file.
